I'm not sure, but I think I came into this world with my dancing shoes on. There were no other little ones on the scene when I made my grand entrance onto the stage of our big Italian family, and it is safe to say I was doted upon. Everyone was enchanted with my dancing, and there was never a shortage of willing partners. I was the star, and they were the "back-up." Not a bad thing when you are just a wee girl, but not very attractive when you're a grownup lady.
The Father has gently brought this fact to my attention this past week.
I have been dancing through my days - ostensibly with Him as my partner - thinking that I am somehow entitled to choreograph the steps. Each morning I invite Him to take the lead and show me the way I should go. I even memorize verses to that
"Let the morning bring me word of Your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in You. Show me the way I should go, for to You I lift up my soul."
In my heart of hearts I want nothing more than to live the life He has planned for me. Yet...I don't take many steps into the day before I am off and dancing - trying to pull Him along with me. So often it is the same dance, the one where I know exactly which move will lead to disaster and yet, somehow, I do it anyway.
The turn in the conversation that He gently tries to steer me away from, but I clumsily plow into - head-long. The time that should be spent in the way He has planned, but I am too involved in the pirouettes that delight me.
Those dances never are what I want them to be. They leave me discouraged and feeling as though I have ruined the dance beyond repair.
He is not willing to leave me there. He extends His arms and bids me come dance with Him. I am astounded at such grace. There is such peace when I rest my head against His shoulder and let Him lead me in the steps He has choreographed just for me. It has the makings of a beautiful dance.
I am linking to Emily's today.
pictures: me and Uncle Tony - me and Aunt Susie